Fair Do’s

‘What?’ Rita and Liz were as united in their bemusement as they had ever been in their lives.

‘I read somewhere that corduroy is making a comeback. I was steering us towards safer waters,’ explained Neville. ‘Sorry.’

‘No. You’re absolutely right,’ said Rita. ‘Let’s try and avoid ructions of any kind, just this once.’

Sandra entered hurriedly and inelegantly with a large pot of tea and a large jug of hot water.

‘Sorry about that,’ she said to the Badgers, ‘but he’s a right dozy ha’p’orth, him.’

‘Sandra!’ Rita sounded appalled.

‘Oh Lord.’ So did Neville.

‘What’s wrong?’ Sandra plonked the tea and water down and picked up the milk jug.

‘You’ll see,’ said Liz.

Ted entered with Corinna.

Sandra dropped the milk jug onto the cups.

‘She’s seen,’ said Liz.

Ted also looked thunderstruck. ‘Oh heck. That’s torn it,’ he said. ‘Come on, Corinna. Let’s leave. It’s best. I mean, it is. Isn’t it?’

But his vision in orange was made of sterner stuff. ‘I don’t want to leave, Ted,’ she said. ‘I enjoy champagne. And I’m not frightened of a waitress. My father’s a bishop.’

Corinna Price-Rodgerson marched forward resolutely. Ted had no option but to follow.

‘Ted! Corinna!’ Neville’s enthusiasm for welcoming new arrivals was a bottomless well. ‘Tea or champagne?’

‘Champagne for me, please,’ said Corinna.

‘There you go, madam,’ said Eric Siddall, barman supreme. ‘No problem. Just the job. They can’t touch you for it.’

‘I think I’ll start with tea,’ said Ted. ‘I’ve got a mouth like an elephant’s …’ he glanced at Corinna, ‘… mouth.’

Ted’s choice of tea involved an encounter with Sandra, lover of cake and, until recently, lover of Ted. Well, so be it. It was unavoidable.

Sandra, who had made a creditable job of clearing up the worst of the mess that she had made, gave Ted a cup of tea and enquired, with suspect solicitude, ‘Do you take sugar, sir?’

Ted was uneasily aware that people were listening.

‘You know I … yes. Two, please,’ he said.

‘Nice to see you again, sir. We haven’t seen you around lately,’ said Sandra.

‘No, I … er … I … er … I’ve been … er …’

‘Tied up? I know how these things happen, sir.’

Jenny came in, carrying an electronic baby link.

‘They’ve put the babies in room 108,’ she announced.

‘They’ve what?’ said Ted.

‘That’s hardly appropriate,’ said Liz. ‘That’s the room he was … put in last time.’

‘Well they say they use that room as a kind of spare because it’s next to the boiler so it’s noisy at ni … What last time?’ said Jenny.

‘I didn’t realise it had ever really gone away,’ said Rita.

They all gave her blank looks.

‘Corduroy,’ she explained.

‘You’re religious,’ Ted told Corinna. ‘Come and have a look at our great Yorkshire abbeys.’

He led Corinna off to admire the paintings.

Rita slipped off without explanation.

‘What last time?’ insisted Jenny.

Neville excused himself without explanation.

‘Mum,’ said Jenny, suddenly alone with Liz. ‘He’s never been to the hotel before. Were you going to say “That’s the room he was conceived in”? Was he conceived during my wedding reception?’

‘I’m afraid so,’ admitted her mother. ‘I was so overjoyed at your marrying your road sweeper that I got carried away.’

‘Oh my God,’ wailed Jenny. ‘No wonder our marriage is going wrong. Oh Lord. I shouldn’t have said that. Not today.’

She plugged in the baby-listening device.

Ted and his fiancée stood beneath Fountains Abbey. The artist had imposed his romanticism on the natural romance of the ruins. He had imposed his concept of beauty on their natural beauty. The result was uniquely, inspiredly ugly.

‘Your waitress showed a bit of style there,’ said Corinna.

‘Surprised?’ said her fiancé. ‘That’s stereotyped thinking, Corinna. That’s a very glib social judgement, is that.’

‘I do not make glib social judgements, Ted.’ Corinna’s rebuke was cool but affectionate. ‘I was brought up not to. Don’t forget, my father’s a bishop.’

‘Some chance,’ muttered Ted.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Nothing. Well, you do rather drag it in. “Nice cup of tea, this. Incidentally, my father’s a bishop.”’ He lowered his voice, in order to talk about sex. ‘“That was magnificent. You’re the best lover I’ve ever had, Ted. Not that I’ve had that many. My father’s a bishop.”’